


An Khe

by victoria_p (musesfool)



Category: Firefly
Genre: Gen, West Wing Title Project
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-29
Updated: 2008-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-03 20:36:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/pseuds/victoria_p
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No, <cite>meimei</cite>, it's time to wake up."</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Khe

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to luzdeestrellas for looking this over and making it better. Written for [**the West Wing title project**](http://musesfool.livejournal.com/1487052.html).

They are not rough with her. They are never rough anymore. They get what they want now with soft words that sound reasonable (just a minor procedure today; count backwards from one hundred; it'll all be over when you wake) and scalpels sharper than serpents' teeth, with needles full of drugs that flash fire under her skin and send visions bursting into her brain.

_Simon's hands are warm, an ungloved touch against her skin for the first time in ages, brusque as he undoes the straps holding her down, then squeezing hard as he pulls her along the corridor towards freedom._

"They know you're here," she tells him. He nods, jaw set in determination, and leads her through the maze of corridors until her head is spinning. "They're coming," she says. "You have to go."

River wakes with a gasp, tries to move and can't, her hands still strapped down to the gurney.

Sometimes, that's the only way she knows she's awake; in her dreams, she can always move.

*

She sends letters to her parents (not home, not anymore, maybe not ever, not when Simon wasn't there), full of nonsense, codes only Simon can crack, and she waits, like Sleeping Beauty, like Snow White, tied down and dreaming.

*

Simon comes for her, like she knew he would, like she dreamt about. Takes her from one box and puts her in another. Third box feels like home.

She runs free through Serenity's corridors and walkways, learns her secrets and the soft beat of her heart. Digs elbow-deep into her guts, oil instead of blood staining her hands, and Kaylee's dismay at the mess is palpable, even as she tries to comfort River.

River doesn't need comforting, hasn't done anything wrong, but Mal is angry and loud even when he whispers, because he thinks she can't hear (Keep her under control, doc, or there will be trouble between us, dong ma?), and Simon comes into her room, his hands warm and ungloved, but he has a needle and he puts her to sleep.

*

They tie her to the stake, try to burn her for a witch, and she knows she's awake because her hands are bound, but Simon can move, can run and be safe.

He doesn't, though. Instead, he climbs up beside her and puts his arms around her, tighter than any knots the hill folk can tie.

She understands, then, that some restraints are invisible, and he's no freer than she is.

*

Simon does everything he can for her, sneaks her into the hospital to find out what's wrong, what he can do to make her better. She's used to the cool feel of metal around her wrists, the fog of confusion in her mind, so when he comes to her afterward, needle in his hand, his touch gentle and warm, she knows it's time to go to sleep again. She's not sure she believes him when he promises that this time, she's going to wake up.

*

Things are sharper, clearer, after Ariel. She's awake, which is good, but she can hear everything, _feel_ everything, and sometimes she thinks the fog of drugs and confusion was easier, because there is too much to feel now--Mal's desperation, Book's confusion, Simon's longing to be anywhere but here. She has no armor against them, thin skin permeable as rice paper, and not even Serenity's solid walls can keep them out of her head.

She turns it to her advantage when Early comes for her, gets inside his ship, his head, the way everyone else gets inside hers, double-edged blade that cuts both ways working for her instead of against her for once.

She feels safe out in the black, thin mylar suit protecting her when her own skin can't, and this time, she's the one rescuing them, these people who have fought and bled for her, who have become family, more than her own parents ever were.

Mal offers her a hand. She takes it, and lets him guide her home.

end

~*~


End file.
